


Sense of Touch : Companion

by stargatefan_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Gen, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-10-06 13:09:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10335413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargatefan_archivist/pseuds/stargatefan_archivist
Summary: Character POV of the other teammates after a mission that went wrong...A companion piece of Sense of Touch. Can standalone. =)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

Sense of Touch : The Rest of the Story

_Sense of Touch - Jack_

There's a sort of joke going around here in the infirmary that they replaced those old hard plastic chairs with these new padded ones just for me. Because I have spent so much time on my ass in here waiting for a certain accident-prone archaeologist to wake up. 

Only Fraiser said it's more than 'wake up' this time. She said wherever Danny is, he's very far away. I look at his peaceful, very pale face and rub a hand up and down his arm. Janet said contact couldn't hurt; she didn't say it would necessarily help... but it helps me. At least I feel like I'm doing **something** , maintaining some contact with him, anchoring him somehow, letting him know I'm here. "Where are you, Danny?" I ask him, tightening my fingers on his arm. "What've I told you about running off on your own?" 

That's how all this started. Of course. How else? By now I could write the script by heart: one alien planet, one curious archaeologist, one commanding officer who is routinely ignored as the civilian on his team wanders off to find new and better ways to get himself killed -- 

My anger actually drives me to my feet at this point and I have to relax my grip a bit on Daniel's arm so I don't involuntarily hurt him. Okay, that wasn't fair. Daniel never sets out to get himself damaged. It just seems to work out that way more times than not. If I had a grain of sense in my skull, I'd ground him. I'd keep his ass back here at Stargate Command where he'd be safe and leave the 'peaceful exploration' of usually-unpeaceful planets to trained soldiers who know how to take orders. 

But I know I won't do that. 

I sit back down on the padded chair and absently pat his arm as I study his lax features. He looks so young. He is young. And he's so damned passionate about his work; he's worked so hard to be a diplomat, a peacemaker on all the worlds we visit. I wonder if, deep down inside, he doesn't feel some kind of weird responsibility because he's the one who figured out how to work the Stargate and open up the galaxy to Gate travel. That may be part of it, I guess, but the biggest part is that's just the way Daniel is. He truly believes in peace and universal understanding and that all life forms should work together to get along for the common good. I'd like that, too, but with rare exceptions, I haven't seen a lot of that on our travels. That's why Carter, Teal'c and I are there with our MP-5's and staff weapon, to keep him safe when he steps out front, throws up his hand and says, "Hi!" to the nearest life form. 

Only on PCX929 there were no life forms to greet us. The planet, as far as we could tell, was deserted. The standing rocks with their strange carvings drew Daniel like a magnet, of course. He was over there running his fingers over the surface and muttering to himself before I could grab a fistful of his uniform jacket to stop him. 

*** 

_"Daniel, for cryin' out loud! What have I told you about touching things!"_

"They're just rocks, Jack." It was obvious he wasn't even listening to me, his mind had already leaped to the next time zone, leaving the rest of us behind as he mentally ran through God knew how many languages, Earth and alien, trying to decipher the writing. 

I gritted my teeth. "Teal'c, you and I will do the recon. Carter, you stay with Daniel and make sure he doesn't --" 

"Ouch!" 

I looked over sharply to see Daniel cradling his right hand, a look of puzzlement on his face as he stared at one of the standing stones. 

"What?" I was already on my way over, as were Carter and Teal'c. "What's wrong?" 

"I don't know. I mean, I can't see any sharp edges on the stone or any insects or anything, but something just stung me or cut me or...something." 

"Let me see." Carter gently took his hand and turned it over, searching for the wound. "Where is it?" 

Distress becoming evident on his face, Daniel pointed to his index finger. "It's really starting to burn," he muttered. 

Carter glanced at me, then turned back to Daniel's hand, frowning. "I can hardly see it. It looks like a puncture wound or maybe --" 

"Oh, shit!" Daniel yanked his hand away from Sam and pressed it to his chest, squeezing his eyes shut. "Feels like my whole hand is on fire!" 

By this time I had him by the arm and was snapping out orders. "Carter, dial us home." He was beginning to gasp a little like he was having trouble breathing and I started to worry about some kind of allergic reaction to whatever it was that had bit him. The guy was allergic to half the plant and animal life on Earth; I didn't even want to think about what that might mean on an alien planet. I slipped his arm around my shoulders. "Okay, Danny, let's get you over to the --" 

Suddenly he gave a cry of pain and doubled over so sharply I nearly lost my grip on him. I caught him before he hit the ground and his eyes were wide with panic and pain as they locked with mine. "Oh, God! Jack! It hurts, it hurts... I think I'm gonna..." 

And then he died. 

He died right there on PCX929. 

His heart stopped. 

And so did mine. 

*** 

There's no way you can do CPR in a wormhole. And we didn't dare try taking him through until he was breathing. I sent Teal'c through for medical help and Carter and I knelt there on that alien planet and tried to coax life back into Daniel's body. 

I don't remember much about all that. I remember counting and pressing down on his chest; the counting was the most important thing, had to get the count right. I didn't even notice when Fraiser's team got there and someone took over for Carter. I didn't notice anything until someone tried to pull me away from Daniel. Teal'c damn near got himself a black eye before I realized he was trying to get me out of the way so the medical team could take over. 

*** 

I give my head a little shake to get rid of those memories and frown at the lax fingers I now have pressed between my hands. I don't remember picking up his hand. His fingers are cold and I rub them, trying to coax some warmth into them. I can't forget the look of panic in his eyes just before he collapsed. 

Just before he died. 

"You're not dead," I tell him sharply, leaning over inches from his face. "You hear me, Jackson? You. Are. Not. Dead. So you can just get that thought out of your head. This is your commanding officer speaking, and I'm telling you that you are alive, and you need to wake up **right now**." 

I don't know what I was expecting. He never listens to me any other time, I don't know why I expected him to listen to me this time. 

I know the toxicology crew are working around the clock to try to find something to counteract the alien substance Fraiser found in his blood. And Sam and Teal'c have gone back to PCX929 to try to determine exactly what affected Daniel and bring back a sample, if possible. 

Me, my place is here, keeping watch. My job is to hold onto him, to not let him drift away. 

_Sense of Touch - Sam_

It's been two days, and the Colonel hasn't left his side. 

I could've told Janet not to bother trying to bully him; I've seen the Colonel like this before with Daniel -- so has she for that matter -- and he's not budging. I come by every two hours, bring coffee and/or food, offer to relieve him, and get myself politely but firmly dismissed each time. 

This time is no different. So I hand over the coffee and take up a spot on the other side of the bed. Daniel's my friend too, and I'm scared to death that this time we're really going to lose him. Every time I come in the Colonel is rubbing Daniel's arm or massaging his fingers, anything to keep contact with him. We don't know if he's aware of us, but I like to think somehow he feels our presence. All the IV's are in his right arm, where I'm sitting, so I lay a hand on his forehead, stroking it gently. The heat is all too evident, and I look up in alarm. 

The Colonel nods wearily. "Fever," he says tersely. "They're monitoring it." 

Not that they can do much about it, I think bitterly. Teal'c and I had been unsuccessful in finding whatever it was on PCX929 that had infected Daniel, and the tox lab hadn't been able to come up with any viable antidote. The best Janet could offer us was the hope that whatever was in Daniel's system would eventually run its course. In other words, he was on his own. 

No, not on his own. Not while he's got us. Leaning over, I press a kiss to his cheek, just like I did when Machello had switched his consciousness into that frail, dying body. "We're here, Daniel," I whispered. "We're here with you. You're not alone." Resting my forehead briefly against his, I murmur, "Remember what I told you before, Daniel... don't you dare die on me." 

"You tell him, Major." 

Looking up, I see approval in my commanding officer's tired eyes. I wonder how much sleep he's gotten in the last forty-eight hours, but I know better than to ask. 

Settling back in my chair, I share this watch with my commander. 

_Sense of Touch - Teal'c_

Colonel O'Neill has not moved from this room in two days and has refused both my offers and Major Carter's to relieve him. 

Major Carter and I returned to PCX929 but were unable to locate the cause of Daniel Jackson's illness, and his conditions worsens. Doctor Fraiser has not been able to find a way to fight the poison in his body and she tells us she feels the crisis will come soon. 

I can feel the growing fever in his body as I approach the bed. On the other side, O'Neill is holding Daniel Jackson's hand, and he is talking; I believe he is reciting what he has called a 'play-by-play' of a past hockey game. Major Carter said when she was last here, Colonel O'Neill was reading articles out loud from the sports pages of a newspaper and making rude 

I lay my hand on his head. The fever seems quite high, and I strive for calming thoughts, trying to convey both my presence and my regret that I was unable to protect him. If I could trade places with my young friend and take this illness into myself, I would do so. 

"We are here, Daniel Jackson," I tell him. "Your friends are here and we await your return." 

_Sense of Touch - General Hammond_

He looks bad. Doctor Fraiser said his chances are less than fifty-fifty, but I don't think she's told Jack that. Then again, from the look on the Colonel's face, he knows. There's not much that gets past him when it comes to his team, and especially this young civilian. 

I remember my first encounter with Doctor Daniel Jackson -- he looked like a college kid playing at Lawrence of Arabia and he smelled like... well, I'd never quite smelled anything like that before. We didn't exactly meet under the best of circumstances, and we've had our share of disagreements over the last few years, but by God, I've never been ashamed to admit when I've been wrong, and I was wrong about him. 

He's proven himself time and time again as a member of SG-1. Not only is he a brilliant scholar and a valuable resource to this command, but he has courage, integrity and honor. I'm damn proud to serve with him and call him a member of my command. 

Now, standing here looking down at him, I wish I had told him that. I hope he knows. I give his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Don't give up the good fight, son," I tell him. "We need you." SG-1 needs you. I don't think you realize how important you are to that team, to your friends. 

I look at the haggard face of the man keeping watch. Jack looks like hell, but there's no point in telling him to go get some rest. This is a member of his team and this is where he belongs. 

_Sense of Touch - Janet Fraiser_

I hate this. I really hate this. I hate being so helpless. I hate watching a patient... a friend slip away like this. I've done everything I can, I know that, but that's no consolation when you're facing a very personal grief. 

Of all the times Daniel Jackson has been in my infirmary, of all his injuries and illnesses I've treated, of all the long nights I've sat here with Jack, waiting for Daniel to come back to us... I'm afraid this time he won't. The crisis is near and the alien poison that entered his body has depleted his resources terribly. He's fought hard to stay alive up to this point, but now he's so very weak. I've already informed General Hammond that I feel his chances are poor, that I don't expect him to live through the night. 

It's late now, and I keep finding excuses to come in, hold his hand for a few minutes, talk to him, just be here. It's the only way I have now to say goodbye. 

Jack sits there on the other side of the bed, Daniel's hand in his. He won't look at me. I think I know why. Like any good commander he refuses to accept defeat. I admire him for that, but I worry about what this will do to him when Daniel... 

I rearrange an IV tube, then carefully take Daniel's hand in mine; sometimes this is all you can do for your patients, just be here, hold their hand, let them know you're here. You won't be forgotten, Daniel, I tell him silently. You have touched all our lives, and we are richer for having known you. 

Having been both military and a physician for most of my adult life, I know better than most the dangers of becoming too involved with your patients. But suddenly I don't care. Leaning over, I press my lips against his forehead for just a moment, then I turn and leave. 

Jack never said a word. 

_Sense of Touch - Jack_

Day three. 

Danny-boy, you're making me old before my time. 

His fever broke a few hours ago. Janet never expected him to live through the night; she didn't tell me that, but I knew. She'd been coming in more and more frequently, fiddling around with the various IV tubes, checking his chart, taking his temperature and blood pressure. Just making excuses to be here, I think. Saying goodbye in her own way. I always suspected she had a soft spot for Daniel. 

She wasn't the only one, it seemed. General Hammond stopped by last night. He said goodbye, too. Not in so many words, but that's what it was. 

I lean over the bed, Daniel's hand clamped tightly in mine. "Well, I'm not saying goodbye, Daniel," I ground out. "You hear that? No goodbyes here." Three days living on coffee and next to no sleep was finally catching up with me. I could feel my nerves starting to quiver. The fever had broken. Janet said that was the good news. But the bad news was... he was so tired. He had fought the good fight, as Hammond said, and he had precious little left to fight with. But no way was I letting him give up now. "I know you're tired, Danny, but you've got a job to do back here, we all do, and we can't do it without you. This base needs you, the team needs you, Sha're needs you..." I squeeze his hand as if I could press my own strength and force of will into him. "And, damn it, I need you. So don't you dare give up. Don't you dare leave me here alone." 

Somehow I know this is our last stand. If I can't get him back now, he'll slip away and I'll lose him forever. Slumping in my chair, my eyes closed, I hold onto his hand and will him back. "Come on, Danny," I whisper. "I'm here. Hold onto me. Don't let go." 

Then I feel it. It was barely a twitch, but I feel his fingers try to curl around mine. My head shoots up, my eyes fly open. "Daniel?" My hand grips his with sudden new strength, afraid to let go, afraid if I do... 

His eyelids flutter, then slowly open. 

My face hurts, and I suddenly realize it's because I'm smiling so hard. My eyes are burning too, and I have to blink to clear my vision. His lips move and I smile even harder when I recognize my name, even though no sound is coming out. That's my boy. 

"Welcome back, Danny." 

Welcome home. 

~fin~   


* * *

>   
> © September 19,1999 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp.  
> The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters  
> who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names,   
> titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television,   
> Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd.   
> Partnership.  
> This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and   
> solely meant for entertainment.   
> All other characters, the story idea and the story itself   
> are the sole property of the author.   
> 

  


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#####  This is for Marcia, who said, "Okay. Now give us the rest of the story." 

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